![]() “I have fun when I study, Mom.” Bonnibel reasoned. Don’t get me wrong – we love how good your grades are – but it would be nice to see you having fun.” Every time we’d ask, you’d talk about how much you needed to study. “That’s because you never tried to make any, Bonnibel. Her mom leant down and placed the box labelled ‘Bonnibel’s clothes' by her desk, huffing as she stood up. “You know I’ve never had any friends, right?” She was momentarily amused by her mom nearly tripping over a stray wire from her TV which hadn’t been set up yet, but feelings of melancholy consumed her once again. Just wait a week – then you’ll be laughing and wondering what you were scared of!” Her mother assured, kissing her on the forehead.īonnibel watched as her mother fumbled about with the latest addition to the pile of moving boxes in Bonnibel’s room. How many of these things were there? “Put this away somewhere.”īonnibel sighed, staring up at the white ceiling, ignoring her mother’s comment. She was cut off from her daydream by her mother bursting into her room with yet another box. She missed her sense of direction - everything here seemed upside down. She could almost smell the hot-dog stands and hear the cabs zooming past her. She closed her eyes and tried to imagine herself back home in New York – she knew where everything was there. Moving could never be organised, Bonnibel decided. The room itself was messy there were cardboard boxes lying on the white carpet, with clothes strewn around. Her desk that was worn from years of use was shoved into a corner and was disorganised anything that could be thrown out of her suitcase was temporarily residing on there - her pet rat, Science, wasn't too pleased with all of the junk surrounding his cage. The walls were painted a soulless grey, and she hadn’t gotten around to sticking up her old posters yet her favourite one was of the periodic table. She sighed, flopping down on her warm, familiar bed – the only thing in these new surroundings that could actually give her a sense of home. Her parents dismissed her, and she walked through the dark, unfamiliar house they now resided in and into what was now her bedroom. I know that your biggest worry is making new friends, and I can assure you that everyone will be all over you the second you walk into that school.”īonnibel scoffed, but she saw the genuine smile on her father’s face and managed to force one back. “We know that you didn’t particularly want to move here, but I can promise you that you’ll be okay at the new school. Bonnie was like a jigsaw piece in the wrong box. ![]() Bonnie's Mom had always been slightly high strung, although at times she was incredibly understanding - she just didn't get that her daughter didn't fit in. Her father spoke up, and he was much more calming than her mother he'd always had that effect. I just want to be by myself for a little while.” “What did I just say?” Her mother challenged, raising a competitive eyebrow and sending Bonnibel a smirk.īonnibel exhaled. “Bonnibel, are you even listening to us?” Her mother asked, an impatient glare directed her daughter’s way.īonnibel’s gaze shot towards her mother whom she much resembled – minus the pink shade that Bonnibel had dyed her hair. Of course, he would decorate, but it wouldn't be the same. She missed the many bookcases hung up on the walls and the calm blue shade of the wallpaper his old office was much better than the drab room she was in now. It was as boring as any usual office, somehow much more boring than the one back in New York – it was just a simple desk and chair, with her father’s computer in the middle. She leant back on the uncomfortable wicker chair she was perched on in her father’s new office of their new house, her blue eyes darting around the room. Her parents just didn't understand that - all they were doing was giving her false hope. She wasn’t listening to her parents’ remarks over how easily she’d settle into her new school – she was too focused on worrying about the other kids.įor most of her life, she'd been ignored by other people her age Bonnie had never fit in, and she knew it wouldn't be any different here. In all honesty, Bonnibel was terrified so terrified that she had sat in the same position for around a half hour, and all of the warmth from the red cup in her hands had slowly faded until her drink was a dissatisfying lukewarm. The chamomile tea wasn’t helping her relax one bit.
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